


Gunpowder

by stripedteacups



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M, Scenting, Underage Sex, manic internal monologue, slamming against things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripedteacups/pseuds/stripedteacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You were upset and you just wouldn't shut up. I had to do something."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gunpowder

**Author's Note:**

> [NOW WITH PODFIC!](http://ishipthat.tumblr.com/post/33312320125/sterek-podfics) Thanks to [ishipthat](http://ishipthat.tumblr.com/) for recording it. <3

The ride to the veterinary clinic is stressful, to say the least. Derek keeps screaming in his ear and he's nodding and stepping on the gas like his old jeep can achieve hyperspeed like the Millenium Falcon and Scott's unconscious or maybe dead and when they make it there everyone's in a frenzy but then Scott wakes up and he's gonna be fine and Stiles is ready to breathe again, thank you.

When the last traces of adrenaline disappear, he crashes. Badly. His vision becomes a blur and his legs give up and he slides from the wall to the floor in a sad heap of limbs and uneasy relief, his mind a flood of snapshots from another wonderful night aboard the good ship What the Fuck is my Life. There was the fairy dust from the vet's supernatural spice rack, Jackson giving them the Linda Blair eyes, the damn kanima breaking through a wall like the Kool-Aid jar, and then just chaos and screaming and panic everywhere and Scott almost dying because Allison's mom is fucking insane. No big deal. Then, of course, there's his dad getting fired and not yelling at him and he's so close to losing his shit, so close. But hey, there's a hand cradling the back of his head and then squeezing his neck and his shoulder and it's ok, he can just close his eyes and let go for a little while now. That's... that's good.

 

"Wake up."

Shhhh. No. He's had a pretty rough night, come on. He needs his beauty sleep, he's not moving. Nope. But now his pillow is moving, what in the fresh hell is this? Just. Shhhh.

"Stiles, come on, you have to go home."

Mrhhhprrrghh.

"Mrhhhprrrghh."

"Stiles, you're drooling on my jeans. Move!"

The same hand from last night rouses him from his not-so-comfortable spot in the floor. That's... well, that's a new low right there. His ass really hurts and his eyes are kind of crusty, which is really kind of gross and it's still dark outside. Why would they wake him up when it's still dark? That's just rude. He's voicing this exact complaint out loud when he notices he's actually mouthing a wet patch of denim. Which he put there. With his saliva. On Derek's jeans.

Oh fuck, really? Really? He looks up. Yup. He fell asleep on Derek's leg. On the floor. Classy. That's definitely Derek right there looking down on him, all sour-faced and intense and sporting some pretty good stubble. How does he do that, anyway? Is that a werewolf thing? Scott can't even grow a pube on his chin, so Derek must have some pretty good testosterone. One day Stiles is going to grow a full, manly beard and then we'll see who wins that award.

"Oh, please don't kill me. I have so much to give. And who would clean all the blood? I'm a bleeder, it's not pretty. You should see me with a nosebleed. Carrie all over my face."

"Just get up. I have to take you home."

Okay, okay. He can follow simple orders. He stretches and tries to ignore the impulse to make a wet patch joke because really, too soon. Scott is smiling at him like a doped up puppy from the metal stretcher that looks too much like the ones he's seen in tv morgues, and something in Stiles' chest lurches. But their good friend Shaman Vet comes in and tells them he'll take Scott home to sleep off the antidote. He's a bit unconvinced, but Scott says "'s all good, dude!" like he did when they were eight and they were about to set something on fire in the backyard.

So ok, fine. He goes with Derek, who sits in the driver's seat of his jeep like he owns it. He doesn't even ask for the keys, he just extends his hand. Ahahaha, no.

"Derek, I can drive. I drove us here not three hours ago under very stressing circumstances, I might add. I know how to get home. On my own. Since I was five. I did get lost once when I was like ten, but it was dark and that was Scott's fault, anyway."

"The kanima's still out there. Give me the keys and get in."

Oh, right. The killer kanima puppet from hell. And hey, look, it's the intense creeper eyes technique. Again. He always falls for it because let's be honest, this is an Alpha and Stiles might not be in his pack, but he respects rank. Also, it's not like he can really look away or disobey because that stare gets to him in places he'd rather not think about. He needs to ask Danny some questions about this, dude to dude.

Whatever, Derek can drive. And fight the kanima. It's not like Stiles kept him safe for two hours in a fucking pool without the use of superpowers, right? He had beard burn on his arm for a day. That shit itched. Dude's got to be super hairy. Maybe it is a werewolf thing after all? I mean--

"Stiles, come the fuck on, it's late."

"Fine! Fine. Here, have the keys. I'll have you know, this is very emasculating. I can still feel the imprint of your pants on my cheek, a painful reminder of the many, many ways shame has a way to catch up with me."

"I can still feel your drool on my jeans, so we're even."

"Please. Don't bother. I can humiliate myself just fine, thank you."

 

The ride home takes longer than expected because for some reason, Derek has decided he's a law abiding citizen of Beacon Hills and he's driving under the speed limit and stopping at every red light like Stiles' dad is riding behind them incognito at four in the morning.

Fuck. His dad.

He really doesn't know how he's even supposed to deal with the fact his dad is out of a job because of him. He looked lost and without purpose, too heartbroken to blame Stiles. The last time his dad looked like this he was in the kitchen surrounded by casseroles and apple pies, avoiding well-wishers and choking on his grief. The memory hits him hard, a punch to the gut that makes his eyes water.

He doesn't know how he's supposed to deal with anything anymore, really. Because a killer werelizard is on the loose and Jackson is possessed by... someone or something, and there's a family of hunters after them with bows and arrows and wolfsbane-laced bullets and Allison's mom is a special kind of crazy killer and honestly, werewolves. Werewolves everywhere. Oh, god. Ohgodohgodohgod. And his Chemistry marks are shit. And he probably left the stove on. But shit depends on him, because let's be real, he's the brains of this operation. At least until Lydia finds out through her own amazing powers of deduction and asserts her authority over all the tiny, insignificant people. Fuck, Lydia's still mad at him, isn't she? Fffffffuuuuck.

Suddenly, Derek makes a hard turn to the right and the jeep skids a bit and Stiles is brought out of his tiny, quiet breakdown and he feels... well, alarmed. Derek kills the engine and is instantly on Stile's window.

"Ok. Out."

"What? What is it? Did you see the kanima? Why did we stop? I'm sorry about the drool, I really am."

"Out."

"Are you going to abuse me and kill me and leave me to rot in the woods? I'm a karate white belt. And I have a rape whistle, you know."

"No, you don't."

"I can whistle, though. Really loud."

"Shut up."

Stiles has a feeling he's about to get slammed against something, because this is his life and this is Derek and apparently one of Derek's goals in life is to be always all up in his grill and giving him these crazy sort of looks like he wants to bite him or something. He's already bracing himself for the blow against his back, but all he gets is Derek's hands holding his head in place, which is somehow more unsettling, because holy shit, not to dwell on it, but that's a really good beard Derek has going on around the face area, thank you very much, and Derek is super close and his eyes are flashing red. Okay, nope, he's not looking, he's closing his eyes and going to his mind palace and to try remember what air is because he needs some of that. Right now.

"Stop panicking. Now."

"Who says I'm pani--"

"STILES. Breathe. Look at me."

Nope, not looking, that plan sucks. But he opens his eyes and does as he's told. Which is when Derek gets even closer and starts making circles with his thumbs on the sides of his neck and that's a bad, bad thing because his whole body shudders with... pleasure and electricity and Stiles actually arches into the touch and oh shit, he's pretty sure he's blushing, but that's nowhere near as bad as the realization he's painfully, awkwardly hard and he's sure that at this distance? Derek can tell. Derek can apparently smell it as well, because he's growling and scenting him and pushing him against the jeep and clearly this is... a thing that is happening.

Something in the back of Stiles' mind tells him he's not being particularly smart or sensible seeing as Derek looks like an angry bull ready to kill him. He's totally doing that thing where his nostrils are flaring and his pupils are completely blown and he looks about 596% even more dangerous than usual and fuck, that shouldn't be hot but his cock twitches until it hurts and that's when Derek decides that giving him a vicious, hungry hickey against the door of his old jeep is a wonderful idea.

Stiles' brain is on vacation somewhere hot and in the south. Cancún. The Bahamas. Aruba, maybe. All he knows is that his dick is sailing this ship since this asshole werewolf decided to finish up the job of ruining his life about five minutes ago. Derek's igniting a gunpowder trail from Stiles' neck to his dick, which he's hopelessly rutting into Derek's thigh like his life depended on it. And oh yes, now he gets it. He gets why Scott leaves at the first sight of Allison and why everyone goes to dry hump at the bleachers near the pool because this feels fucking amazing and he will never, ever judge anyone for getting laid. Ever.

When Stiles thinks he's gotten used to this outdoor adventure in werewolf debauchery, Derek slams into him, hungry and demanding. His tongue is twisting and twirling over his pulse and he feels the scrape of teeth and a hand squeezing him and suddenly it's too much. He's going to die. He's holding on to Derek like some sort of horny spider monkey, clawing at his back and gasping and begging for world peace or more groping, he's not sure. But Derek shuts him up with his tongue and thrusts his hips against him and bites him and fuck, it hurts and there's growls and yes, like that, come on, come on, Stiles, and just like that, he comes in his pants amongst dry sobs.

Of course he ends up on the ground again. It takes him a while to gather his wits, his brains and his dignity. Derek's sitting next to him, too cool for school. Like he almost didn't make Stiles black out not three minutes ago.

"What the fuck, Derek, oh my god. Next time warn a guy or something. Jesus."

"You were upset and you just wouldn't shut up. I had to do something."

This is too fucking outrageous. He'd be angry, but he's all relaxed and blissed out and his neck is burning from the beard burn and the whole biting and sucking thing.

"I was quiet during the entire ride until you stopped here in order to... plunder my neck. You could have told me and we could have, you know, talked."

Derek makes a displeased lemon face.

"Listen. You were in pain and freaking out and it was annoying. You reeked. And you always smell like you're in heat. You were driving me crazy and I had to do something. You're better now."

"You could have said something!"

"You popped a boner after ten seconds."

"I am a teenager! This is what I do!"

And with that, Derek smiles. A real, open smile. Teeth and dimples and all, and oh, Stiles smiles back and he is so giddy and so fucked up.

"Listen. If this is some sort of wet spot revenge thing, you win, ok? Now get me home before I chafe."

"You're home."

"What?" Stiles stands up and looks around. Yep. That's his porch, right there. Oh my god.

"Oh, my god. So how many laws did we just break here? In front of my dad's house? Who is the sheriff of this town? Did you lose your mind?"

Derek stands up and shrugs. "Worth it. Now go to sleep, it's dangerous out here. Kanimas and werewolves on the loose ready to prey on innocent, virgin teenagers."

Derek's eyes are dancing with mirth as he gives him back his keys. Cheeky fucker.

"Okay. Uh, so... Good night, then? I guess I'll see you... when I see you."

Apparently Stiles isn't above being awkward and needy at the end of a date. Yup, he just went there.

"Tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"You said to warn a guy next time, so I'm warning you. Tomorrow. Now go. This isn't over."

Derek's got his Business Face on, and Stiles wishes he didn't because he could do with more of the cheeky face instead considering he's just been told there'll be more beard burn tomorrow. But hey, he deals, because this is what he does.

"Bossy Alpha is bossy. I'm out."

But he doesn't move.

"What? Do I need to kiss you good night or something?"

Stiles needs to work out on his aloof elf prince routine, he really does.

"It would make me feel less slutty, yes, but I can man up and survive the night without it."

Derek rolls his eyes but kisses him anyway. This time it's soft and quiet and with the sort of slow burn that makes Stiles' breath falter.

Yeah. Totally fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> So... this started as a post-ep tag fic for 2x08 because I was bothered that Stiles wasn't with Scott and Derek in their last scene at the vet's office, so I wanted to write that and maybe add a couple lines of cute. Then things... just happened. I don't even know, ok? I started watching this show like three weeks ago. I don't know who I am anymore. All i know is that whatever Stiles wants, Stiles gets. 
> 
> All my love and thanks to the wonderful [rubykatewriting](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rubykatewriting) and [SomeKim](http://somekim.tumblr.com/) for beta duties and for being terrible, terrible enablers. <3


End file.
